


Welovesherlollies: You're My Fire

by WeLoveSherlolly



Series: Welovesherlollies [24]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Realisation, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 20:03:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3542120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeLoveSherlolly/pseuds/WeLoveSherlolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're my fire.<br/>You're my rain.<br/>You're my shelter from the world when i'm in pain.<br/>You're my river when I need to flow.<br/>You carry me, you carry me home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welovesherlollies: You're My Fire

**Author's Note:**

> A songfic I wrote inspired by a Danish band which is a favourite of mine - Carpark North.

_You’re my fire,_  
You’re my rain.  
You’re my shelter from the world when I’m in pain.  
You’re my river when I need to fall.  
You carry me, you carry me home (endlessly). 

The first time they met he was eight and a few kids from his class were pushing him around because he was different.

She was a force of nature and she stepped in to protect him without even knowing who he was.

He deduced her, treated her horribly and he could see the happiness in her eyes tone out as he told her every little worry she had, how she worried about her sick father, and her mother who had left them.

She didn’t cry like the others.

And he would remember her sorrowful eyes until the next time he saw her.

_Gravitation, I need to stay grounded._  
I’ve been patient, but finally I found it.  
Lost in a place where I didn’t belong.  
Guidelines and your beautiful eyes brought me home. 

He was high again, the drugs going through his system dulling his nerves and mind; he always came back to the drugs when he needed his mind to slow down.

He didn’t know where he was going as he simply followed the path his feet took him.

Sherlock found himself outside of a small coffee shop and decided coffee sounded like a decent idea, and so he went inside.

The first thing he recognised when he stepped through the doors, the first thing he saw as he raised his head was a pair of brown eyes, a pair of too familiar brown eyes.

He ran out of the shop, haunted.

_When it’s right there you gotta hold onto it,_  
make no mistakes.  
And I was falling for you slowly like a snowflake.  
And I put everything into it, baby no brakes.  
Now go ahead, we can do this like soul mates. 

They met again when he was fresh out of rehab working with NSA and one of the DI’s.

She smiled at him, a hesitant smile, but a smile none the less.

“Sherlock Holmes” he informed her, intent on just ignoring the too familiar woman, it was easy for him, ignoring people and sentiment had become second nature to him.

But there was still an indefinable pang in his chest that he didn’t care much for when she turned away from him.

_You’re my fire._  
You’re my rain.  
You’re my shelter from the world when I’m in pain.  
You’re my river when I need to flow.  
You carry me, you carry me home. 

She helped save him several times, during the time after his fall she was a rock, far stronger that he had ever thought her to be.

She was also a key element in saving him after he was shot, always eager to tell him which way he should fall, and she was always right.

_I’m giving up all control, somebody take the wheel._  
Used to be a lost soul, oh ooh.  
A million dreams out there, you give me something real.  
Save me, save me. 

She saved him again after the return of Moriarty. He hadn’t anticipated that she would jump instead of him. Once again he had missed something, missed the fact that Molly Hooper, even through all of his faults, still loved him.

He remembered screaming and yelling for her, remembered reaching for her as he watched her drop, remembered her eyes smiling up at him when he reached her side.

She had saved him again, and brought Moriarty with her.

_You’re my fire,_  
You’re my rain.  
You’re my shelter from the world when I’m in pain.  
You’re my river when I need to flow.  
You carry me, you carry me home. 

She’d been lucky; the doctors had all told her so, Sherlock knew it as well.

He’d asked John what he should do and John had told him that if he didn’t already know then he was quite a wanker. Sherlock didn’t know what to do with the answer, so he’d gone to Mary.

Mary wasn’t much help either when she’d told him he would know when he saw Molly.

Sherlock needed an answer and so after months of not seeing the woman so often on his mind, he now found himself outside of her flat, trying to find a way to raise his hand so he could knock on the annoying door taunting him.

She wasn’t mad, didn’t shed a tear when she opened the door for him, and his memory brought him back to their first meeting. He told her he remembered, that he remembered everything.

Molly forgave him, just like she always had for all of his shortcomings; he knew it in the way her lips moulded themselves against his.

_Keep moving, keep, keep moving on._  
This is where I’m going.  
This is where I’m home. 

After years of not exactly knowing where he belonged, he had now found his home in Molly Hooper.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment's, kudos?


End file.
